


Masturbation Can Be "Magical"

by Ritzy_bird



Series: #Buy Jean An Actual Dildo 2k16 [6]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Embarrassment, M/M, Masturbation, Minor mention of blood, NOT vore, Other, Sexual Experimentation, romantic pining, secret sharing, using a non dildo item as a dildo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:05:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7694182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ritzy_bird/pseuds/Ritzy_bird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco couldn't let Jean wallow in shame over something as tame as shoving a banana up his ass once. At least Jean didn't try putting an expensive, collectible crystal figurine up his ass instead. Really, Marco should've gone for produce, too.</p><p>**If you're not interested in reading the entire "#Buy Jean A Dildo 2k16" series to understand this one-shot, don't worry! I know 160k words is a lot to read just to enjoy a single one-shot, but you will definitely be able to understand the plot without having read a shred of the rest of the series. But it would make me happy if you DID read that 160k+ series!<br/>That being said:<br/>This contains MAJOR spoilers for the 5th part of the series "Bittersweet" and so while this is much shorter and technically takes place in between the 4th and 5th parts of the series, I am BEGGING you (if you're a current reader of the series) not to read this until you've finished "Bittersweet".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masturbation Can Be "Magical"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dollyboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollyboy/gifts).



> Marco is just as much a sinner as Jean is. And far more ridiculous. In the opening and ending on this fic, Jean is 16 and Marco is 17, but in the flashback that takes up the majority of the fic, Jean is 14 and Marco is 15.  
> **This is NOT the 6th part of the series I was talking about, but so many people (like, 3) have asked what Marco was confessing to at the end of the 4th part, and I figured that this was something nice to hold you all off until I DO finish that 6th part. This is just a little bonus thing. I've made a lot of progress on it so far, but it's still nowhere near done. Please enjoy.

Everyone had their secrets. Small ones, big ones, ones that could get people in a lot of trouble for a lot of different reasons. Marco had a lot, like anyone did, but he was certain that nothing would ever be nearly as shameful as what he'd done. He could never admit what he'd done to another soul, no, it was a secret to take to his death bed if he had to.

That was until _now_. Marco had been best friends with Jean for a good decade, and he didn't know much about Jean's sexuality apart from all the porn he had the misfortune of accidentally seeing.

Jean liked guys with big cocks, girls with big boobs, and riding. Lots and lots of riding. So basic, so, _vanilla_. And that's as far as Marco thought it went, that his best friend was scared and in the closet, pretending he was straight, keeping his sexual desires tame and, well, boring.

Marco always wanted Jean to fess up, to just come out to him, because it'd been far too long that Marco knew and he was tired of watching Jean hold himself back like some poorly trained dog any time there was a cute person in the area that just happened to maybe not be a girl.

The last thing that Marco had ever expected was for Jean to randomly come out to him after Christmas vacation, just to admit that he'd fucked himself with a banana, tried to hide the act from his mother by putting it in a smoothie, and then, lucky Marco, had the honor of drinking multiple glasses of said smoothie none the wiser.

At first, Marco thought, as he processed the wild story and tried to validate it's possibility, that Jean was hiding something from him and tried to come up with an excuse bullshit story on the spot. But Jean was no writer. His creative skills when it came to language were about as sophisticated and imaginative as a 7 year old!

Not that that was a bad thing, there was something Marco liked about that in Jean. Simplistic wasn't always a bad thing, not when so many things get over-complicated over stupid misunderstandings because people just can't talk to each other properly.

So, there was no way that Jean made the story up, not unless he'd planned the story in advance, which again, Marco wasn't confident that Jean had the sense to do that. Who creates crazy stories like that in advance? Who would ever want to make another human believe they'd done something so fucking _hilarious_?

It immediately sparked some old memories in Marco's mind, and all he could think as he looked at Jean's shameful staring at the ground was how wrong everyone was when they tried to say him and Jean were nothing alike.

And here he was, thinking that being older meant he made all the better decisions. For once, Jean actually did something bad, but better than Marco. He just wished he had control over his own laughter, because oh, poor Jean, he looked like he was about ready to cry once Marco really got going.

How else was Marco supposed to react!? At least when Marco had done something as shameful, he had the sense to use _actual lube_ and not Vaseline of all things! He'd have to somehow make sure Jean's mom actually paid more attention to the fact that her son was well into puberty. Not even Marco could avoid his sexual urges for very long one he was old enough to realize what was happening.

But when Jean stormed off, so angry and ashamed, Marco felt like he'd really done something wrong. He had no right to judge Jean, and he didn't mean to make him feel so bad. Unfortunately, Jean was stubborn, there was no easy way for Marco to apologize or even make Jean feel better about the situation.

So, here they were. Laying down in Jean's bed, Jean embarrassed looking and shameful after pouring his sweet little heart out to his best friend only to get laughed at. Marco could admit a lot of things to him here. Things that he wished he weren't such a hypocrite about, in the way he talked to Jean, the way he treated him all the time.

He wasn't ready to tell Jean that he was gay, too. That he'd been confused for so long, and that Jean only made it _worse_ , because Jean was just too much for Marco to handle sometimes. Sure Jean was a pain in everyone's ass now and then, but what teenager wasn't?

Jean was such a confusing, mixed bag of emotions. He was abrasive, but sweet. Over confident one moment, self conscious and anxious the next. An over achiever that couldn't manage to get anything done until the last minute, for all his brains. Crude, but sensitive, oh _god_ he was so sensitive. More than Jean liked anybody to know. And, Jean could make Marco laugh.

Maybe Jean wasn't a model, or had the best temper, or, well everyone had their fair share of imperfections. But Marco couldn't help himself to liking him anyway. _Like_ liking him, to be specific. He knew that Jean would be a good boyfriend to almost anyone who gave him the chance, but, he wasn't the right kind of person for Marco.

It would be nice if Marco could do more than just hold Jean's hand, and pull him close and tell him not to be upset over something so stupid. That it didn't matter. That there were... _other_ ways Jean could help himself than doing something as drastic as taking produce to his ass.

Even if Jean did feel the same way about Marco, this just wasn't a good time. Marco knew Jean, and he knew that even if Jean had never thought about Marco in those ways, that he'd want to give it a try. Because really, who better to experience the basics of everything romantic and sexual than someone he could trust more than anyone else, his best friend?

Marco wasn't stupid though. He knew that it wouldn't work out, it wasn't in him to be in a real relationship, not even a friends with benefits kind of thing. Jean was lonely, and Marco would love to make him happy, but no, no god no not like that. It wouldn't _work_ in the end. He'd crush Jean's self esteem and probably fuck over their friendship.

So yes, in the moment, it might be fantastic for them both. Jean might not feel so bad about what he'd done to himself, as silly as it was. But he couldn't admit that he was gay, because it was a domino effect that would so easily lead to him confessing that he had so many different feelings about Jean that would never amount to anything good.

There was only one solution that Marco saw. "Can I, tell you a secret?" It was more than just any secret. It was the kind of secret that, while not life changing, just wasn't meant to be shared. At all. Ever. Jean better appreciate it, otherwise Marco might just have to kill him to keep him quiet.

"Anything." Jean answered quietly, curiosity creeping into his gaze. Ah, how Marco loved Jean's cute little face when he was interested in something. What Marco wouldn't give for things to be different, so he could kiss Jean on the cheek and tell him that himself.

Marco settled for gently resting his hand on top of Jean's, to make him, or maybe the both of them, more comfortable. He breathed, and tried to ignore the fact that he was definitely blushing, "Alright, then. So...."

How should he formulate things? It wasn't an easy thing to admit to. "D'you remember like 3 years ago, when I was 15? And I uhm, I stayed home from school because I had strep throat?" Jean looked slightly confused but nodded lightly, "Yeah."

"I didn't have strep. Or, any sickness, or anything. I-- Okay let me, let me just try to explain from the beginning." Marco sighed, resisting every urge he had to scratch at his head or cover his face in embarrassment.

* * *

There was nothing worse than a day of chores when no one was home. Marco hated the responsibility of it all, having to time manage things, knowing when he could take breaks and for how long, if he could half-ass one thing so he could better focus on the next. It was much easier when either of his parents were there to nag-- sorry, _"direct"_ him.

Why couldn't Ymir do half of it? So what if she was an adult, and had a job, and other responsibilities. She still left all her stuff here, she had to pay rent, so why wasn't she cleaning? Marco had better things to do! And, his parents weren't in their 50's yet, they could wash the dishes! They could Swiffer!

Normally Marco didn't complain, because that meant lectures, and being threatened with no dessert after dinner. Dessert was pretty much the highlight of Marco's every day life. No matter what kind of day it was, good or bad, there was dessert waiting for him at the end of it all. Of course dessert sometimes meant pecan pie, and Marco really didn't like pecans, or the sugary gloop combined with it to make "pie", but it was still dessert.

It was just, Marco was having a bit of a day. For a while, he'd been... thinking, about certain things. Primarily sex. Marco used to watch porn, but something about it just didn't click with him. It didn't feel real! He couldn't get really invested in it, or turned on for that matter.

Reading "erotic novels" was more his thing. They were more descriptive, but at the same time, Marco could imagine things the way he wanted, at any volume he wanted. Porn was so crude, even though it did cater to a very, very, very disturbingly wide variety of tastes. Still, variety wasn't enough for Marco to understand why so many people found porn entertaining.

There was one thing he'd heard a lot about everywhere that was bothering him. He understood the basics of sex, and masturbation, but he heard too much about _prostates_ , and he wasn't sure what to think of it after so long of hearing but not really paying attention.

Masturbation for guys was supposed to be cut and dry, simple stuff. There was his cock, and his balls. He wasn't a huge fan of getting his balls groped, but what guy out there didn't get off to rubbing their hand over their cock enough times?

But, putting something... inside him? Marco wasn't sure what to think of it. He knew it wasn't a strictly gay thing, it just, didn't seem to make sense to Marco. What the hell was a prostate anyway? And why did it feel good to touch it? Why was it so far up everyone's ass, where it was hard to get to?

He had so many questions! And, no one reliable to answer them. There was no way Marco was going to ask his parents, he wasn't stupid, and he certainly didn't want that kind of embarrassment. There _was_ Ymir... but she was a girl! And a lesbian! What the hell would she know about guys? Nothing.

Marco tried not to do crazy things once he hit puberty. He stayed away from parties, and most girls. He was supposed to focus on school, so that he could maybe get enough grades to get a scholarship to somewhere nice and fancy where he could, get a degree and be an adult or, whatever it was he was supposed to do.

It was all too hard for him though. Sex ed classes didn't prepare him for the reality of it. He understood the mood changing thing, and acne, and "bodily changes". But what he didn't understand was the whole sex part of getting older.

Why'd he have to get so, horny, for no good reason!? He could go _weeks_ without touching any porn and then, then suddenly he just, he couldn't help but want to. He wanted to touch himself and he wanted to imagine doing things with girls. And other things, but, lately it became more of an issue.

He needed to know what this whole prostate thing was about. Did it feel better than what Marco normally did? There were a few things he'd learned about himself that could make masturbating feel better, like, not going straight for a release and letting himself calm down a little right before he was going to cum each time. That was nice. Torture sometimes, but nice.

Marco tried fingering himself already, but, he wasn't sure that it was what everyone said it was supposed to feel like. He needed something... bigger. His fingers weren't micro submarines, they couldn't just go exploring the dark trench of Marco's ass with much finesse, okay?

Honestly, Marco didn't know why any kind of pleasure could come from something up his ass. That's where people shat out of. How was it a good idea to use such a space for _anything_ else? It wasn't sanitary! Was it? He knew that girls'... vaginas, ugh, such a weird word for him to think about, but, those were what, self cleaning, somehow? Assholes weren't!

Plus nothing came out of there but, like, blood, right? And that was only once a month for a few days. People didn't crap a few weeks out of every year! Just, Marco was confused, and afraid, and, really, really curious.

Did it really feel amazing? Sometimes, no, a lot of the time, Marco felt so bored and empty when he touched himself. Like it was just getting from point A to point B because wow, his cock decided it was time to be horny for whatever stupid reason. Girls were lucky, they didn't have a damn meat stick in between their legs that twitched and danced around every time they got horny.

Marco _used_ to entertain the idea of what it'd be to be a girl, because girl's were supposed to be more sensitive since they had... since they didn't _have_ cocks. He was a little jealous, and only because he believed it was true. But with the prostate thing, maybe, maybe it wasn't so bad being a guy after all? Girls didn't have prostates, that, Marco knew for sure.

The only thing Marco could think to do to solve the problem was to buy a dildo or something. He accidentally found a purple, vibrating dildo in the garage once, under a towel. Whose was it? He didn't know, and he wanted to keep it that way. What his family did behind closed doors was not his business! Just like how the things Marco read, the things he talked about online in Incognito windows, was not his family's business.

Not that Marco would buy a cock shaped one or anything, just something simple that he could get inside him without much issue. If his parents found it, he could just blame it on Ymir, claim it was hers. It wouldn't be the first time Ymir hid her unmentionables in Marco's room.

Marco had a huge closet, so huge that he complained, demanding that they just knock the doors out and give him more space in his otherwise cramped room. But for its size and clutteredness, made it a perfect place for Ymir to hide anything and everything. Weed, alcohol, fake ID's to go buy cigarettes or go drinking at bars. You name it, Ymir hid it in Marco's room.

That was how Marco learned that secrets had to be better protected than the silly, careless way his big sister did. But it was also a lesson in what not to do, because the amount of yelling and screaming he heard the first time his parents found alcohol in Marco's room was truly terrifying.

He cried like a baby until Ymir came home and saw what she'd inadvertenly done. From that point on Ymir was kind enough to take responsibility for pretty much all the bad stuff that was ever spotted in Marco's room.

Dildos would just have to be added to the mix. If Ymir denied it being hers, well, Marco would just have to hold it over her head and threaten to tell their parents about the time Ymir brought a girl over once, and against the family rules, closed her bedroom door with the other girl for a good couple of hours. If Marco was going down in shame and terror because Ymir couldn't take one for the team, then she could go down with him.

The only problem with that was money. Marco did chores, and that's how he got cash. But that was just it, it was _cash_. How was he supposed to mail order himself the perfect sex toy with cash? And he wasn't 16 yet, so he couldn't get a real job where he could hide the amount of money he really had from his parents.

His funds were closely monitored, and if Marco spent, what, how much were dildos? 20 bucks? If they asked him where that money went he couldn't just lie and say he lent it to a friend. That would mean he'd have to pay that friend back, which would essentially mean throwing 20 dollars away because if he didn't, his parents would notice the extra funds he had.

Seriously, he was at a complete loss. There was nothing he could do! He was curious and, pretty horny, and he didn't know how to handle it. There was something so exciting about the idea that there was really another, _nice_ way to make himself feel good. There were only so many things he could do with his cock alone without getting bored. The amount of improvisation and extra work Marco had to do most of the time was exhausting.

No matter what he did all day today though he just couldn't get it out of his mind. He wanted to stop and just go beat off in the shower or something to get a hold of himself, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Marco tried his best to practice restraint when it came to masturbating, especially when he had so much work to do.

There were tons of things in the house that Marco was sure might work for what he was looking for, but none of it was right, nothing was really prefect. It wasn't like he hadn't already searched on the internet about what kinds of things he could use as a make-shift dildo, but nothing was good enough, as creative as some of the things were.

He kept second guessing it though, all day, throughout every chore. When he did the dishes, he thought about using the dull end of a salad serving fork. Sweeping out the garage? Hammer handle. Cleaning the bathroom? One of the thinner perfume bottles sitting on the sink counter.

Everywhere he looked there were possibilities, but none of them really spoke to Marco. The only thing that "spoke" to him was his cock, and he learned not to trust every idea that came out of pleasing _that_ thing. Puberty really was the worst thing to ever happen to Marco since the family cat died.

Then Marco came across the true bane of his existence, and yet another major annoyance for the day: The dining room. They rarely used the dining room for anything but glorified storage, what with their kitchen island being big enough to serve 8 people and then some if you really squeezed together. But the "crowning jewel" of the room was the overly sized wooden display case at the far end.

Once a month, someone in the house was lucky enough to get to open the old piece of crap up to dust and clean every single thing that was in it. The fancy plates, the priceless tea set, and of course, the plethora of various knick knacks.

It was all just one big collection of collectible items that his mom had. She had tons more little glass, crystal, and ceramic bobbles in storage and back home with her own mother. There were even some plastic ones in the mix too, stupid, cheap things either Marco or Ymir had gotten for her for some holiday or another because they couldn't afford anything better with their allowance.

And somehow Marco was supposed to not break a single one while cleaning them, and then of course put them back in the exact right places. If he didn't then it was just going to ruin the aesthetic or something. He loved his mother but, seriously, no one cared about her collection _or_ the dining room.

Either way, it had to be done. Marco pulled the dining room table over to the case, groaning as he tried to remember how many things there were to clean exactly. They drew straws at the beginning of each month to see who had to clean them, and for the past 5 months Marco had gotten lucky. Ymir insisted that he was cheating, but Marco would never do something like that. Bad karma, y'know?

At least with cleaning dishes, the chance of them breaking were slim. Who in the world thought it was a good idea to make really fancy plates and tea sets, but use the most fragile materials known to man to do so? They never even _used_ the stuff! Not even on Thanksgiving!

The little statues and whatnot, okay, Marco could understand that. They were like, toys for girls. Really useless toys, but whatever. But what did they gain by owning a bunch of dishes they couldn't use? Where was the logic in that? Marco wished he could just accidentally break them all and be done with it, but he'd probably be grounded for life and then his mom would just go out and collect more clutter.

It wasn't fair, but the sooner he got it over with the better. It was a painstaking process, but little by little it was getting done. Shelf after shelf, making sure to dust every _annoying_ dent and crevice there was.

Then as he was putting back the last figurines on one of the beginning shelves, he couldn't help but notice the shape of the last one he had to put back before pulling everything out of the next level.

It was the unicorn, the only one in the collection, to Marco's surprise. He looked it over, wondering what material it was made out of. He knew there was a difference between glass and crystal, his mother had explained it to him a few times. It was really pretty, whichever it was.

There was a flower crown on the unicorn's head, and it was standing up on its rear legs. All that was missing from the perfect little scene was a rainbow and some butter-- Oh, no no, he sees the butterflies now. Near the unicorn's tail. So yes, just a pretty rainbow and the figurine would look like every single other unicorn figurine out there.

It was pretty heavy for such a small thing too. Kinda long. And, thick. Firm. And smooth. And that horn! It was definitely something else. And it could be _used_ for something else.

Why couldn't he opt for something less... horribly wrong, like, a mixing spoon, or, a Swiffer handle? Why not just, put the poor innocent unicorn back where it belonged, and _not_ do anything strange with it?

Those were the kind of questions that ran through Marco's head. But he was horny, and the unicorn? It was truly perfect. A spoon handle was definitely too thin, a Swiffer or broom handle? Way too thick. This _unicorn_ was magical, alright? It was perfectly smooth, it had an excellent weight, its shape was going to allow for as much varied sensation as he could probably get, and it had a horn!

The horn really sold it. If what everyone said about prostates was true, then the horn on the unicorn statue was going to be able to give it very precise attention. And it felt right in his hands. Glass dildos were a thing, anyway, it wasn't like what he thought of doing was completely weird. There were people out there who put metal rods inside their cocks! Marco wasn't doing anything crazy, really.

Marco smoothed his fingers over the unicorn's horn gently, staring down at the poor figurine. He wasn't going to get anything better than this... and he had been wanting to try things for a while. Maybe it was impulsive, but, what else was he supposed to do? Go pluck a carrot from the garden and use that? No. That would be disgusting.

He'd cleaned the unicorn off enough times before, and he could do it again. It wasn't like anyone ever touched them other than to clean them, so would it matter? Not to Marco it wouldn't. He picked up the cloth that he'd been using to dust the various knick-knacks, taking gentle care to polish the little unicorn to sparkling perfection.

Everything from the lines in the unicorn's tail, to the gentle slopes indicating where a leg began and the body ended, and all the way up to the face. The little indent on the eyes, the slightly complicated design of the flowers, and of course, the perfectly smooth horn. It was all so different on just his fingers alone, he could only imagine what it'd all feel like across far more sensitive nerves....

It was decided. Marco gently closed the display case's doors and started walking towards the stairs, leaving the cloth on the dining room table. He'd do what had to be done to satiate his curiosity, and lust, and then he'd wash the figurine off and then return to his chores.

For once, Marco was glad that his parents had forced him to keep condoms and lube. It was embarrassing for sure, especially when they asked him to make sure he kept them updated on when the stuff expired and when he'd "need more". As if Marco needed them at all.

His parents raised him better than that, didn't they? Marco wasn't going to have sex with anyone, so why give anything to him to begin with? To test him to see if he'd mess up given the opportunity? But it didn't matter, the lube was what he valued.

Without something to get the unicorn to actually get inside him, he'd be at a loss. Completely alone and wondering what _is_ a prostate and how _good_ does it really feel to touch it? What a nightmare he'd be living.

It was just this once though, he thought to himself over and over, as if he wouldn't be tempted to do it all over again if it really was amazing like he'd heard it was. Marco was a very stressed person, and there were only two things that really helped with that: Running until his legs felt like they were going to break, and masturbating.

What was really special was masturbating right after a long run. It was hard, daunting even, but exhilarating. His lungs deserved better, but hey, at least he exercised at all. Something about the adrenaline high after running for so long, and the soreness of his legs, just made an orgasm that much better. Too bad he didn't have the time to go running for an hour or two before taking the unicorn to his ass.

Marco could only imagine how smooth the glass, or crystal, whichever, would feel once it was caked in lube and sliding across probably some of the most delicate skin in Marco's body. It really did excite him, and while Marco pretty much had a boner on and off all day, it was really getting hard now.

He knew what he was gonna do was wrong, but he could ignore it just so he could really know for sure what it felt like to mess around with the mysteries of anal... sex? It wasn't sex, so, was it just anal masturbation? Marco wasn't well versed in sex terminology, he'd have to do a little digging on Urban Dictionary or something one of these days.

His room felt even more quiet than normal, and he knew it was just because he was excited and nervous, enough for his mind to start playing tricks on him. The only things that could be heard were the washer, and the damn cicadas outside. But even they seemed quiet once Marco shut his door and took a minute to breathe.

There was still time to change his mind, and he could look for something else to fuck himself with, to poke around on the inside just to find that one spot. And Marco wasn't gay but, he did want to at least feel like there was something inside him. He could probably use a mechanical pencil to touch his prostate, but that wasn't the only thing Marco was after.

Somehow, there was supposed to be something _better_ about sticking things up his ass rather than just using his fingers to run across his cock every now and then. This unicorn was going to give him the full experience, he just knew it.

Marco grabbed an old shoe box from underneath his desk and dumped its contents out onto the desk. He thought about putting a condom on the unicorn, but he realized that the horn would probably just poke a hole in the thin latex. And of course he wasn't sure, but he wasn't gonna test it. Marco had tried putting a condom on once, it was... a struggle, to say the least. He wasn't going to get any STD's from a little unicorn statue though, so it'd be fine.

So he left the box and picked up the lube before carrying his two instruments of happiness to his bed. Marco didn't know what it'd be like to finger himself without lube. Before he'd even had an idea that it was something he could do, he'd already had lube ready to go.

Marco was certain that his parents had expected him to use it on _girls_ , and he prayed that they didn't snoop into his private shoe box, notice the lube had been opened, and then dare scold him for having any kind of unprotected sex. What would he do then? Tell them he'd used it for himself? Then they'd suspect that he was gay, and after the poor way they'd handled Ymir being a lesbian, Marco really didn't need them questioning every friend he brought over that was a boy.

He could picture it now, his parents asking Jean if he and Marco were more than just friends. Poor, poor Jean. Marco smiled to himself, thinking about how poorly Jean would've tried to get out of the conversation, how everything he said would probably only make the story sound more real. It sucked being so close to Jean, knowing that some people just _insisted_ they were totally gay for each other and secretly dating. Ridiculous!

But Marco had to push all the thoughts about other people out of his head, otherwise he wasn't going to be able to enjoy the unicorn. He set the lube and unicorn down gently on his bed, and quickly stripped his clothes off. The sudden breeze made the hair all over his body stick up, and he brushed his arms off to get the sensation to go away for at least the time being.

Marco wasn't appreciative of cold air, but all other things cold did make him feel a certain way. It was partially why he generally masturbated in the shower. The cold water all over him was like being slapped in comparison to what enjoyment he could get out of touching his stiff, erect cock in the shower. Like touching himself after a good run, it was a kind of disadvantage that put him on just the right kind of edge.

He sat on his bed carefully and uncapped the lube, squeezing a generous amount into his other cupped hand. Next he picked up the sparkling unicorn, and he turned it in his hands a little, admiring how gorgeous and elegant it really was. Then he sullied that elegance by rolling it around in his other hand, coating it in as much lube as he could before it started to just slip and drip off onto his legs.

The lube was strange, really. It was kind of thick, like nothing else he could describe, but it sort of melted almost in a way, and it felt more like oil on his skin. Marco was tempted to buy his own lube, one he could keep a secret from his family. Something like on all those commercials he'd seen, the kind of lubes that were supposed to be special, that made things feel better than they normally would.

Marco rubbed his thumb across the drops of lube on his legs, his skin becoming slick and shiny afterwards. Oh god, how Marco wished he could take things slow. After all, this was something fairly new to him, and not much good could come out of rushing things. Rome wasn't built in a day, and a good orgasm certainly wouldn't come from thrusting the unicorn into him like it was a jackhammer.

But he did have other things to do if he didn't want to get in trouble latter, so he'd have to be patient, but without wasting time on the unnecessary prep work. The foreplay as it were. The idea of sex with another person didn't sit well with Marco at all, but he did like reading about other people doing things to each other.

He could enjoy it when other people did it, but he couldn't imagine himself doing it. Did that mean he was into voyeurism? No. Definitely not. His imagination was the only place he could enjoy other people doing it.

Marco set the unicorn down next to him as he got comfortable on his bed, leaning on his back but not entirely flat, using his pillows to keep him at a bit of an angle. This was the best and easiest way Marco had found when it came to putting anything up his ass.

Nothing was fancy or glamorous when it came to fingering himself, so Marco decided to get the awkward finagling over with. Both his hands had a fair amount of lube on them, but he went with his left hand so that he could better hold the unicorn with his right.

There was something embarrassing about the way it felt as his first finger slowly pushed its way into him. It felt just so slimy from the lube, unnatural in the way it so easily slid in, around, and out of his asshole. Marco kept his mouth shut, but stared idly at his closet door on the far side of the room. He breathed in and out of his nose, trying not to think too hard on what he was supposed to do with his fingers.

It was meant to be simple, to just, push his fingers in, to wiggle them around a bit, right? If so, then why did Marco always have such a hard time with it? His fingers were only so long, could only move so much, and he couldn't even really tell where they were supposed to be going.

The sensation was always odd, and he gasped a little as he pushed his middle finger in. The nail having been just a bit longer than the rest had scraped against his skin as he pushed it in, and it was a little startling. Not painful though, because he didn't force it in quickly and the nail wasn't that long or jagged, but a surprise none the less.

Marco had never really gotten the whole rhythm thing down, but he did understand the value of curling his fingers and dragging his knuckles back as he pulled his fingers back, and a whine got stuck in his throat as he did so.

He did it a few times, trying to help himself relax a little, so he could ease into the uncomfortable tightness that would come with his ring finger. Marco wished his fingers were longer, but it only made him think about someone else putting their fingers inside him. They'd have such an advantage, not having to stretch their arm out just to get their fingers remotely near his asshole.

Although most people's fingers didn't get all that long. What was the most, four inches? Was that really enough to get the full effect? Probably not, that's why Marco had chosen the unicorn. It was longer than the average person's middle finger for sure. And while his knuckles gave him a nice feeling, all the different textures and designs on the statue would be far more interesting once they got inside him.

" _Unnfh_...." Marco grunted as he pushed his third finger in to join the others. He was already starting to sweat as he slowly spread his fingers apart, huffing in discomfort. It had to be done, otherwise he was never going to be able to fit the unicorn in him quite right without hurting himself.

More and more sounds escaped Marco as he got more comfortable fingering himself. They weren't exceptionally loud, nothing indicating real, deep and hot pleasure, just little things. Small moans, the occasional gasp when he thrust his fingers back into him just a little too fast. He desperately wanted to do more to himself, but he didn't have the time to spare.

He curled all three of his fingers and slowly pulled them out of himself, stretching them apart as they slipped out of him one last time. It was relieving, but his body definitely wanted more, and for once he was ready to give himself just that. Marco spread his legs apart just a bit more and drew the unicorn towards his asshole with his right hand.

At first he just stayed there, staring down at the scene, his face red from embarrassment. But he couldn't go back now, so he gently brought the unicorn closer to his asshole, the tip of the horn feeling as small as ever when it touched his skin. He slowly slid it in until the head of the unicorn was against his asshole, and he had a sheepish smile spread across his face.

The horn was kinda cold, but it was small, barely a centimeter in length. It had done nothing to prepare him from the tense, hard coldness of the entire glass figurine as he gave it a push inside of him. It made Marco gasp, but he refused the dire instinct to clamp his legs together in retaliation at the shock. It was so, so _cold_!

Marco leaned his head back unintentionally, hitting the head board, and let out gentle laughter. He gripped his blankets with his left hand and took a deep breath, trying to calm down as his insides spasm and contracted against the intruding unicorn. It _tickled_ , in a strange kind of way as he felt the different curves, bumps, and crevices of the unicorn's head and neck press against him repeatedly.

All he could do to relax was stay still and bite down on the insides of his cheeks to maybe settle down and quiet his ridiculous snickering. Marco still had a very firm grip on the base of the unicorn figurine though, even if it had loosened and re-tightened some during his giggle fit.

Marco licked his lips and sighed, taking in yet another breath of air to try and relax again. He closed his eyes and let his head rest backwards on the headboard and pillow, and slowly he began to push more of the unicorn into him again. It took everything in him not to gasp and laugh all over again as he felt more of the cold glass inside him, but he was starting to get used to it. That or the glass just warmed up easily.

When he felt comfortable enough, he started to pull the unicorn out again, and _that_ definitely got a loud noise out of him. It wasn't like his fingers! It wasn't like them at all, it was big and varied as it dragged across the flesh inside him. But it couldn't really be considered dragged, because it was so much smoother, so slick. It wasn't rough, it wasn't really like it was being dragged, it was more like it was gently caressing every inch of him, and all in different ways.

Marco huffed as he almost pulled the entire thing out, and without any hesitation slowly pushed it back in. "Mmmfh, fuck!" He moaned quietly, embarrassed as he could identify which sensations were caused by which parts of the unicorn. The roughest and most nerve wracking sensation was because of the flower crown, the smoothest and gentlest parts from the unicorn's middle body, which had little to no detail or curvature to it at all.

Oh, this was good. This had been a great idea and Marco wasn't even sure if he'd touched his prostate at all yet. He pushed the unicorn in all the way this time, so that there was nothing left he could push in because the circular base was definitely too wide. He gasped as he felt a little something. It was nice feeling, a little tense, but, was that it? Was that what was supposed to feel so good?

He was tempted to touch his cock, because it was erect and the tip was wet with precum, but, no, he couldn't do that. If this whole prostate thing was as good as everyone said, then he wouldn't need to touch his cock to orgasm, now, would he? Disappointed, though not in a short supply of patience, Marco occupied his left hand with holding onto his blanket. His thumb ran across the fabric rapidly, and his other fingers scratched at it in anticipation.

Marco started to pay more attention to the direction the unicorn was going as it was being pushed and pulled, and after a few tantalizing tries, he felt that nice little feeling again as he pushed it into himself. Slowly and with as much precision as he could muster, he slowly pressed the figurine against his prostate as he pulled it out of him. It drew a small whimper out of Marco, and he noticed his cock twitch a little. If only he could bring himself to touch it _and_ please himself with the unicorn.

It didn't take long before Marco had figured out something of a rhythm, although not quite so, as he figured out how to make the most of the unicorn and how to get it to rub across his prostate. Sometimes he'd go slower, harder, or even twist his wrist so that a different part of the statue was giving him a different kind of pressure.

The more he did it, the more he learned what worked and what didn't, the faster he got comfortable with doing so. Marco started to breathe more and more out of his mouth, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he all but tore apart his blanket with his left hand because he was so desperate to touch his cock.

His moans and whines were much more frequent, moans because the hot, flighty pleasure that came from pressing against his prostate was so addicting he couldn't help but go back for more. And yet he was whining gently on occasion, because as good as it was he knew how good it really could be if he paid a little attention to his cock, even just a little bit!

Marco couldn't help but feel greedy as his stomach tightened, yet it'd been enough time and he still hadn't came. Marco was usually patient, but he wanted to know how _good_ it could really be, and so he started to thrust the unicorn even faster, and harder.

It was so good, and his chest heaved as he gave himself less and less time before rushing the statue back along his prostate again, sending another quick wave of pleasure through him. Marco really wanted to know what it'd be like to orgasm without touching his cock in the slightest, and so he raised himself up a little with the help of his left arm, arching his back to get a better angle. And he went harder and harder, faster, and then, and then--

_*crack*_

Marco's right hand, gripped so tightly on the base of the statue, was pulled back along with his arm far enough out of him to take the whole statue with it, and he lowered himself back onto his bed immediately. His body and mind quickly processed what had just happened, and then Marco, wide eyed, stared at what was in his right hand.

It was the bottom half of the unicorn statue. The bottom... _half_. "Oh... oh, _god_!" Marco gasped, still breathing heavily from the sudden halt of his masturbating. "Holy shit. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god...!" Marco panicked, dropping the bottom half of the figurine onto his bed.

He broke it! He broke the unicorn! While it was still _in him_! What had he been thinking!? What was he supposed to do now!?

Marco didn't want to leave the other half in him, that was for sure, and so he shakily reached his right hand back down towards his asshole and braced himself. He squeezed his eyes shut as he started to use his fingers to pull apart the tight muscle, and then the hard part began.

Slowly, Marco pushed all his fingers into him, groaning and biting down on his lip as he did so. It was uncomfortable, but he couldn't even feel the statue yet, so he pushed further. Marco turned his head to the side and whined loudly, a hot stinging sensation violating his asshole as Marco unfortunately started to push his hand in past the lower knuckles.

He didn't like the concept of fisting, and this was certainly far too close to the act for his liking, but he couldn't help letting out a drawn out, breathy moan as he got the widest part of his hand in. Marco felt around for the upper half of the unicorn's body, gently pushing his hand in a little more. A high pitched whine got mangled in his throat, and it sounded like he'd choked on it.

But he managed to finally get a grip on the upper legs of the unicorn's body, and he very carefully pulled the poor thing out of him. Marco dropped it on his bed immediately, but then quickly pushed it to the side before letting his legs drop. His face was red and he couldn't even look at himself he was so embarrassed. What had he done?

Panic had already set in though, and Marco feared that there might still be some glass pieces left inside him. He slowly sat up and gasped as he saw his left thigh. It was bleeding from a small cut, but he hadn't even noticed it'd happened. When he pulled the bottom half of the glass statue from himself so suddenly, it must've nicked his thigh on the way past it.

Marco brought his left hand up to his head, worry and shame overcoming him. What the _fuck_ was he thinking!? What on Earth compelled him to use a glass figurine like he just did!? He shouldn't have been thrusting it so hard and fast, honestly, what kind of fool was he?

Not knowing what else to do, Marco slowly sat up and got out of bed, picking up his cell phone from his pants off the floor before practically waddling over to his dresser. He pulled out a t-shirt and some sweat pants and very, _very_ carefully put them on. Then he did what he knew he had no choice but to do; Call Ymir.

There was no way his parents could know about this, they'd kill him. He still had no idea how he was going to explain the missing unicorn statue now that he ruined it for good. Marco knew that Ymir wasn't much better, but he didn't know many people in town that had a car and _wouldn't_ make a laughing stock out of him.

"Yeh'lo!" Ymir answered enthusiastically, and Marco winced as he thought of how he was going to explain this to her.

"Uh-uhhm, are you at work right now?" Marco asked meekly, glancing back at the broken unicorn statue on his bed. He didn't feel any sharp pains in his asshole, but he really didn't want to risk it.

"Nah, I'm out with this girl, she's--" Yeah yeah okay that was nice but Marco didn't care. "Okay then can you come home? Like right now? Please?" Marco interrupted, hoping he sounded urgent but not enough so to freak his sister out.

Ymir sighed on the other end, "Why?" Ugh. Uuuggh. _Eugh_. "B-because!" Marco responded, "I, I need you to get here _right now_ okay? Please, I-I'm begging you, okay, I need help." His voice cracked, but he didn't correct himself. He was still going through puberty and sometimes when he was nervous his voice didn't cooperate with him.

"...Fine. I'll be there in like, 15 minutes. Don't do anything else stupid before then." Ymir muttered quietly before immediately hanging up, and Marco let out a sigh of relief. He could only imagine what kind of stupid thing Ymir thought he'd done, but there was no way she would be expecting the truth.

With any luck, Ymir wouldn't immediately rat him out to their parents. But now Marco was left with his mess, and he suddenly realized he hadn't wiped his hands off before doing, well, anything. There was lube on his dresser, and his phone. Gross.

Marco slowly walked to the other side of his bed and set his phone down, gently leaning over to wipe the lube off his hands and onto this blankets. Then he turned and pulled a bunch of tissues from their box to wipe off his cell phone. He was conscious of every movement he made, fearing that one wrong twitch could send a glass bit in the perfectly wrong direction.

He had no idea what to do about the unicorn figurine itself, and so his best solution was to gently wrap them in the shirt he'd been wearing earlier, that way they'd be easy to locate but still sort of hidden from everyone else. In his mind, Marco started to imagine different ways he could get out of trouble. He could glue the pieces back together? He could invite Eren over and tell him to bring his dog, and then, then say the dog knocked into the display case!

No, no, those ideas weren't going to work. Maybe he could pay Ymir off and ask her to take the blame for it? It's not like he could claim they were robbed. No thief in their right mind would walk through their house, ignore everything in the living room, the over priced counter appliances in the kitchen, and even the gaudy crystal chandelier in the dining room just to get their hands on _one_ generic glass unicorn.

Marco was screwed, and every minute he waited for Ymir to get home was another minute for him to panic. There might be glass stuck in his ass and he could be grounded for a month and his parents were going to think he was gay and then Marco would never be allowed to have any friends over or sleep over any friends' houses ever again and his life might as well be over now.

There was no good that was gonna come from him standing around his room fidgeting, so he slowly made his way downstairs. Each step he took was slow and methodical, because he'd be damned if he tripped and fell in such a time of crisis. Marco just wanted to be able to get out of the house as soon as possible once Ymir got home.

If he hadn't felt true shame before, he definitely had now. Marco did all kinds of questionable things in his life, but this? This had to be the most ridiculous. He had to get to a hospital, but he wasn't even certain he'd be able to tell the truth to the doctors!

The wait was agonizing, and it seemed like Ymir was taking forever, but then Marco heard keys jingling from outside the front door and he felt relieved. Not a moment later Ymir walked trough the door, giving Marco a suspicious state once she noticed him. "Alright, what'd you do?"

Marco swallowed hard, and he couldn't look her in the eyes as he thought about what to say. "I, I need to go to a hospital." He said quietly, unsure of how else to begin.

Ymir turned her nose up at him and scoffed, "Why? Did you drink my vodka?" Honestly, Marco was offended, but he couldn't blame her. "No,--" Ymir decided to interrupt him, "You got crabs or something?"

Now it was Marco's turn to scoff, shooting her a glare, "Ughh! No! I don't, I don't _have sex with people_!" He defended himself, a shiver running through him at the disgusting thought. His cock felt itchy just thinking about it.

Ymir rolled her eyes, "Sure you don't. Then _what_ , because I'm not taking you anywhere until you tell me what's going on!" Marco figured it'd come down to this, but he had to at least try to preserve his dignity.

"There's... glass." Marco mumbled, his eyes darting towards the dining room entrance. Ymir obviously had no idea what he meant, "Glass? Glass where? Did you cut yourself on something?" Well, technically, yes, he did.

Marco gave a half-hearted shrug, "K-kinda? I, I just really need to go to the hospital so can we please just go?" If only it were that easy.

Ymir put her foot down, "You are going to tell me _exactly_ what happened, right now, or I'm calling mom and dad and _you_ can explain to them what's wrong!" Why'd she have to do that!? Did she not care at all about Marco's privacy?

"I, put something i-in me that was _glass_ okay!? Okay!? It b-broke and, and I need to go to the hospital!" Marco stammered, his arms crossed in defense as he looked at the floor and chewed on his lips to try and keep his composure.

There was silence for a moment, and then Ymir spoke, "You've gotta be shittin' me, right?" She sounded like she thought Marco was trying to play a prank on her or something. "Why didn't you just call 911 then if your ass is bleeding from bein' all cut up?"

Marco huffed, "I'm not joking around here! I don't wanna call an ambulance because then the hospital will call mom and dad right away a-and I don't want them to know about it!"

Ymir looked skeptical, "Mhmm, and what's this 'glass', huh? Where is it now?" In his _ass_ probably! Wasn't she listening to a word he'd said!?

"It broke in half, okay, the, the two big pieces are in my room. It's... it's mom's unicorn statue." Marco mumbled shamefully, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at Ymir's face.

Not even a second after Marco finished talking, Ymir burst out into laughter, "God damn, Marco! You're fucking ridiculous, are you serious right now!? C'mon you're messin' with me! Hahahaaahh! Jesus, cut the crap, alright?"

Marco was upset and even slightly hurt that his sister honestly didn't believe him, despite the fact that it was a bit of a funny story. "It's on my bed wrapped in a shirt, go check yourself! I need to go to a hospital, god, just, for _fuck's sake_ Ymir why won't you trust me and take me to the hospital already!?" Marco snapped, still embarrassed that what he'd done was apparently so ridiculous that not even Ymir could entertain the possibility that it was true.

Ymir calmed down quickly, sighing, "Ahh, shut up, I'll be right back. And don't swear at me again, I'll knock your teeth out." Liar. Ymir would never lay a hand on anyone, especially not Marco. He wished she'd quit the tough guy crap and just listen to him.

She may have gone up the stairs slowly, but she practically jumped down the stairs afterwards, "Aaaalright you freak, let's go. Try not to bleed to death on the way there." Ugh, Marco hated how she was being over dramatic now. His ass wasn't bleeding, not yet anyway, and the little cut on his thigh wasn't anything to worry about either. He just wanted to make sure there were no glass shards still in there just waiting to ruin his life.

But as Marco slipped some flip flops on he noticed Ymir was holding the shirt that he'd wrapped the unicorn in. "Wh-what are you doing with that!? Put it back!" He demanded, trying and failing to take it away from Ymir.

"Ah ah, no way. Don't be a dumbass, the doctor's are gonna need to know exactly what kind of stuff they're looking for. I don't even know if this is glass, or crystal, or, hell, this thing could be fancy cubic zirconia. Y'know that fake diamond shit that dad's always gettin' for mom?" Ymir explained as she held the shirt high above her head where Marco couldn't reach.

Marco frowned, but said nothing as he slowly walked out the door. He hated this. He'd gotten too greedy and into things to stop and think about the consequences, and now he was on the fast track to being mocked by probably dozens upon dozens of adults.

When he got into the backseat of Ymir's car, he was too scared to simply sit down, and so instead after he buckled he laid down on the entire backseat, clutching the edge with his left hand tightly.

Ymir looked in the rear view mirror and snorted, "You better pray we don't get pulled over."

Marco hated that she was taunting him, like his suffering was so funny. "Whatever okay? You can't tell mom or dad about this either!"

"Well, you better not die on the way there, because someone's gonna have to tell them what your cause o' death was, y'know?" Ymir snickered as she put the car into drive, not batting an eye when she noticed the glare Marco was giving her.

  
  


The drive was truly agonizing. Every bump and sharp turn alarmed Marco, and he worried that a little piece of glass might already be making its way through a vein or something, steadily roaming around his body looking for the right vital artery to shoot itself through. Honestly he had no idea why thoughts like that came to his mind, but the longer it took to get to the hospital the more his stupid brain must have thought it needed to think of survival plans.

Marco hated it when they arrived, because by the amount of cars in the parking lot by the ER entrance, he knew the wait would probably be long. It was worse too, that he couldn't help but slowly walk across the parking lot, with Ymir nagging him the whole time to hurry it up.

As expected, the ER was jam packed with people, all of which Marco tried not to look at. He wasn't socially awkward, at least not completely, but he felt like people would be able to read the shame on his face somehow.

The receptionists at the front desk didn't seem very judging though. "Name?" The one on the left asked, and Marco would have looked up to see their name tags, but he was still too shamed to even meet their gaze. "Marco Bodt. B-O-D-T not B-O-T-T." Ymir answered for him, thank goodness.

"Date of birth?" The receptionist continued, and Marco gathered that she was typing everything onto the computer in front of her. Ymir sighed, as if all of this was some big inconvenience to her, and she turned to Marco, "What year were you born again?" Marco wanted to stomp on her foot for being so ignorant. "1998." He grumbled.

Ymir looked back at the receptionist, "June 16th 1998." The receptionist didn't seem to question the fact that Ymir was answering everything for Marco, thankfully. "Weight and height?" The receptionist continued, much to Marco's dismay. How tall was he? How much did he weigh!? He didn't know!

"Uhhh... let's see," Ymir started, squinting her eyes as she examined Marco. "Like, 150 pounds? 5'6"? I think." She didn't sound even sort of sure, and Marco wanted to groan. The receptionist said nothing though, just giving a short nod as she continued typing.

"Fill this out," The receptionist said, handing over a clip board and pen, "I'll need to see your hand." Marco knew the deal. This wasn't the first time he'd had the misfortune of visiting the ER. He held his arm up and over the counter and waited as the receptionist stood up and turned around, pulling something out of a kind of printer.

It was one of those damn hospital bracelets. Marco hated them, it made him feel like some kind of animal. But he said nothing and didn't resist while the receptionist pulled the plastic part off and wrapped the paper band around his wrist, tapping it onto itself and making it stick.

They wandered over to a couple of free chairs, although Marco refused to sit down. "Am I fillin' this out for you too?" Ymir asked, looking over the lengthy document. "Please?" Marco muttered, nervously scratching his elbows.

Multiple T.V.'s were on in the background, some of them had sports, a few had Law & Order, there was a Spanish channel, and HGTV. Marco didn't dare turn to look at any of them though, still not wanting to display his shamed face around for everyone to see.

He probably looked like a mess, and smelled like it too. Flip flops, ugly gray sweat pants, and a graphic tee that Marco only just now realized was in-side-out. Obviously he wasn't here to do a fashion show, but he hated looking like a bum.

Ymir eventually filled out the form after sighing, groaning, and checking her phone way too many times, and walked back towards the front desk. Marco hesitated following, but he didn't want to be left alone on the other side of the room either, so he inevitably followed her.

"Alright," The receptionist said, rotating in her chair and plucking a bag from behind her and handing it over towards Marco, "Fill this up with a urine sample, put it back in the bag, and then just slide it through that metal door right there." The receptionist pointed towards a metal panel on the wall with a hazardous waste symbol on it.

Marco froze, "Uh, I don't have to go...." The last ER he'd been to didn't ask for a urine sample in the waiting room! The receptionist only gave him an understanding smile, "We can get you some water. The bathroom's out that way and to the right." Marco looked down and shrunk away, "Oh. Okay."

All of this, because he just had to put a unicorn in his ass, didn't he? And he didn't even get an orgasm out of it. "He'll be fine without the water. C'mon, let's go." Ymir sighed, snapping her fingers to urge Marco onward.

He tried not to look like he was in fear of his asshole getting shred to bits from the inside out as he followed Ymir out of the waiting room and down the hall slowly, god forbid someone ask him what's wrong.

Hospital bathrooms creeped Marco out, mainly because he knew how, despite their sterile looks, hospitals were actually rampant with germs and bacteria. And if everyone was trying to pee in cups in this one? Oh god, Marco was ready to drink some Purel. Public bathroom's in general were cesspools of pee because for whatever reason, too many guys didn't know how to aim right.

Marco cautiously pushed open the bathroom door, and pretended he didn't see Ymir's smirk and little wave in the mirror before the door closed again. It didn't smell as bad as Marco had prepared himself, but he didn't let that stop him from being careful as he set the bag on the sink counter.

He pulled his pants down gently, shame hitting him a little harder as he looked at his poor unattended to cock. If only he'd been satisfied with what little he always did to himself, then he wouldn't be in this situation. Maybe if he'd at least started to touch it before he went crazy with the unicorn, he would've had an orgasm and then that'd be that. No broken unicorn. No shame. Well, maybe a little bit of shame. Less shame.

Marco spread his legs out so that his pants wouldn't fall and touch the ground, and he leaned forward to pull the cup out of the little baggie it was in. He was never sure how much he was supposed to fill these damn cups. They never specified! And Marco didn't wanna feel like he didn't pee enough, or peed too much, so he always tried to shoot for half-way.

How girls managed to aim, he had no idea. Maybe their cups came with little funnels? Marco tried not to dwell on it, but he was still freaked out and was having trouble keeping his mind off the possible glass in him. He twisted the cap back on and put the cup in the bag, then proceeded to wash his hands with hot water. Usually Marco didn't care about the temperature, but he didn't know what kinds of people with what kinds of diseases who visited the ER had used this bathroom.

The walk back to the waiting room was an awkward one, and Marco tried his best to hide the bag in his hands from all the prying eyes as he made his way to the little metal door. He pulled it back and dropped the bag in quickly, turning around to use the Purel pump on the receptionist counter.

And thus the waiting game began again. Marco's feet hurt, and he wished he'd worn more comfortable shoes. There was nothing to do but stand and stare at the wall while they listened to other names get called, and the mishmash of channels bouncing around the room.

But it wasn't that long before they heard Marco's name called, and a few groans and scoffs from people who "were here first" and such. Whatever their problems were, they probably weren't as bad as Marco's. Either way he continued to avoid eye contact as he walked towards the door in the back of the waiting room.

The nurse that greeted them gestured towards a scale that doubled as a measuring tool, "Step up here please." Marco immediately did as he was told, wondering if Ymir was on the ball or completely bullshit in her guesstimations earlier. However he had no idea, because the nurse simply wrote down on her clip board and didn't mention what exactly she'd recorded.

"Alright now have a seat and I'll just check your blood pressure and temperature." When the nurse said that, Marco got uncomfortable, but he didn't have it in him to refuse. Still, he was very slow and cautious to sit down, and he tried his best not to move at all. He hoped the nurse couldn't see the stress in his eyes.

Marco hated this. Did they not read the form!? He could be bleeding out from the inside and they want to take his blood pressure? After it was all said and done, and they were directed to go wait in another room, Marco was relieved but also nervous.

The last time he'd been in the ER, he was 14 and he'd fainted from heat stroke. How someone as young as Marco could get heat stroke? Well it was Jean's fault, the idiot, and that was all there was to it. From then on he didn't bring Jean on any sun-lit walks along the beach to collect seashells.

But when at the hospital, they'd put him in the pediatric wing. Now he was 15, so they were treating him like an adult and putting him a normal room. It was so strange. The pediatric wing had all sorts of colors and other cutesy things, but the regular wings were just... abysmal. White everything with white tiles. At least they had the decency to pain the lower third of the walls blue. It was something.

It all still made Marco uncomfortable. He knew that at some point one or both of his parents were going to be called, because he was still 15 and Ymir was only his sister. The sooner the doctors would just seem him, the better. He didn't need his parents here to ask what was going on. He wouldn't be able to take it.

Marco would've loved to just sit on the disgustingly uncomfortable hospital bed so that he could give his feet a break, but he was still spooked that he had to sit down for his blood pressure to be taken.

Luckily they didn't have to wait as long as they'd waited in the waiting room, although Marco's heart sank when the doctor walked into the room. It was a woman. Marco was uncomfortable around doctors in general, but things just got even more weird when it was a woman doing things.

It was just strange to him, but at the same time, he wasn't sure he wanted some old straight male doctor judging him for being "one of the gays" just because Marco happened to put something in his asshole.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Ral, would you mind telling me what seems to be the problem today?" She looked over the clip board in her hands and smiled. Marco didn't know what to do so he looked to Ymir for a moment, to signal her to not say or do anything for him.

But of course Ymir had to do the opposite, setting the shirt down on the bed and opening it up, "He shoved this thing up his ass and it broke, and now he's afraid there's still some glass up there. We don't know what it's made out of though, I think it's glass." She explained blatantly, looking down at the broken unicorn.

The room was dead silent. Marco was fuming, practically on the verge of tears, glaring down Ymir as he stood as stiff as a board on the other side of the hospital bed. Even the doctor seemed a bit stunned, but she composed herself and walked over to the bed, leaning over to see what Ymir was talking about.

She turned her head to the side, probably to get a better look at it, before leaning back up with a short nod, "I see. That's a, unicorn? I'm more of a pegasus fan myself." That was it. Marco wanted to die. He shouldn't have said anything to Ymir, he should've just accepted his fate and died there in his bed right next to that cursed glass unicorn.

There was silence, but it was short again as Dr. Ral looked at Ymir, "You are?" Ymir smiled smugly, "I'm his big sister. Can you believe I've gotta deal with him? All the things in our house and he puts _that thing_ in 'im."

"Can you leave!?" Marco sputtered, still stiff and red in the face with embarrassment. Ymir shot him a look of confusion, "What? Don't you need me here for support? You could be dying!"

Dr. Ral looked slightly alarmed, "Well, we don't want to jump to conclusions, there's a possibility that there's nothing to worry about!" Marco huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, "Ymir just go! I don't want you in here!"

Ymir was smart and didn't wait for the doctor to force her to leave and nodded, "Alright, alright. Chill out kiddo." Then she walked out of the room without another word. Marco wasn't sure whether to celebrate that or not. She had been making things awkward, but now he was alone with this stranger who was probably going to shove something up his ass to make sure everything was okay.

"Alright then," Dr. Ral started, walking over to a large cabinet in the back of the room and pulling out a big plastic bag that had the hazardous waste warning on it. "I did see some blood on this, and so I'm going to put it in here for now, alright?" She explained, grabbing a couple of gloves and putting them on.

Marco nodded but refused to look directly at her face. He was sure that, this doctor probably saw much worse, but who knows? Maybe this was her first day and she was regretting ever going to medical school, because if her first day has some gross teenage boy shoving innocent, beautiful things like unicorn figurines up his ass, then what else was in store for her?

She gently picked up the shirt containing the unicorn and placed it in the bag, sealing it up afterwards. "I also need you to change into one of these gowns. You can keep your shirt on, but I'm going to need to take a look at what's going on, so your pants and anything underneath you can just put in this bag."

Marco whimpered unintentionally, suddenly more nervous about the visit than he had been before. Dr. Ral must not have noticed though, thankfully, as she came back from the large cabinet to hand over the gown and bag she'd previously mentioned. But then Marco noticed that she was still standing there, and he looked around, confused.

"Ah, can you wait, outside, until I'm done getting changed?" Marco asked as politely as he could. Was it bad, or weird, to ask that? Was he being weird? He had no idea, but Dr. Ral nodded and pulled her gloves off, "Of course!" And she turned, walking out the door and pumping some Purel into her hands before she did so.

This really was a nightmare. Marco carefully pulled his pants down, "Shit." He hissed, noticing the blood that had gotten on the inside of them from the cut on his thigh. Blood stains were so hard to get out! Another thing for his parents to scold him for, great! But Marco wanted to get this over with, so he did what he was supposed to, even if the stupid gown was a pain in the ass to put on.

Not only that, but it was absolutely freezing in the room. He had a bit of a boner because of it, and he had to think of as many dead animals and ASPCA commercials as possible to help it relax. He really didn't need the doctor thinking he had it up for her and that he was one of _those_ disgusting kinds of teenage boys.

He slipped his feet back into his flip flops and walked towards the door, opening it just a crack, "I'm done." He announced loud enough to get Dr. Ral's attention. When she started to walk forward, that's when he knew to close the door and back away to his previous position.

"If you could just lay down on the bed for me, that'd be great." Dr. Ral said as she closed the door behind her, again squeezing some Purel into her hands. Marco noted that at the very least, the employees knew they were working in a germ breeding ground.

Marco wanted to protest, but he carefully climbed onto the bed anyway, conscious of how much his gown was showing. This was the worst. This was the most embarrassing thing that would ever happen to him. How was he going to live this down?

Dr. Ral walked over to a computer and turned it on, "Normally the nurses do this sort of thing, but we're a bit short handed today. It's pretty hot out. Everyone's outside, busy, getting into trouble. Oh! Looks like last year you were here for heat stroke yourself. Are you doing better to stay hydrated this year?"

Marco didn't know how to respond to doctor/nurse small talk, so he just shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." He just wanted this to be over, couldn't they skip the chatter?

Dr. Ral looked over her shoulder, "I'm going to ask you a few questions, okay? If you don't know how to answer them I can check with your sister if you want." Marco nodded in understanding, fiddling with his fingers and picking at his longer nails.

"Are you sexually active?" Uh. Was she serious? If Marco was sexually active what in the world would he be doing shoving glass unicorns up his ass!? "No." Marco answered immediately.

Dr. Ral turned her head, but Marco wasn't paying attention. A moment or two passed before she spoke again, "Are you sexually active with women _or_ men?" Marco looked up at that, even more embarrassed as he scoffed, "I'm not gay! No!"

Aha, if only he realized where he'd be in a few years.

She only nodded, turning back to the computer, "It's fine if you are, we just need to know for sure to make sure we know what not to look for." The nerve! Marco understood it was routine but, this was the first time a doctor had the nerve to ask him if he was gay. What, so he tried to stimulate his prostate, so what? That didn't make him gay, he'd watched straight porn where the girls stick their fingers into guys' assholes.

"Are you allergic to any medications, and do you have any medical problems?"

"I don't know, and no." Marco answered, trying not to pick too loudly at his nails again.

"Have you ever had an STD, or thought you might have one?" Again with the sex questions?

" _No_." Marco answered a little more firmly.

"Have you ever had alcohol, or drugs? Don't worry, we don't contact the police about these things, promise." Marco already knew that, but it was nice that she clarified anyway.

"Nope." Unless of course Ymir decided to sneak something into Marco's drink at some point, which he doubted, but it could've happened.

"Have you ever had unprotected sex?"

Marco breathed out his nose, "I've never done that and I'm not going to and I'm not gay." He said sternly, wringing his hands together now. It was so embarrassing, and Marco was glad that he could say he'd never had sex, but part of him felt like she didn't believe him.

"Is there a history of any illnesses, mental or physical in your family?"

Marco sighed, "Heart disease, on my dad's side, with all the girls in the family?"

He really wished Ymir was in the room now. She could answer pretty much everything for him. This was why he always let his parents stay in the room at doctor visits even though he had the right to deny them the information. Because of ridiculous surveys like these.

After the game of 20 questions was over, and Marco was more bored out of his mind than worried about his poor asshole, he realized Dr. Ral was putting on gloves again. Oh god. He had an idea of where things were going.

"Just lay back and relax, and spread your legs for me. If you start to feel any pain, or this gets uncomfortable for you just tell me and I'll stop." She explained, pulling some black stick out of a cabinet connected to the ceiling.

Marco was already way past uncomfortable, and if there really was glass in him then there would be oodles of pain if she started poking around. But he understood what she meant and tried his best not to freak out as he did as he was told. He had a nice view of the filthy, dust covered ceiling now.

He heard a rolling chair, and a click, and Marco realized that the little black stick must have been some kind of flash light. So some pretty woman doctor was going to shine a light up his ass. Yeah, no, this was exactly the kind of thing Marco wanted to experience. Not.

Marco was glad that the hospital gown shielded his view of the doctor, because he honestly couldn't stand the idea of seeing her face as she did her job. For her it was all professional, this was her job. For Marco this was the most uncomfortable nightmare ever made real. He was hoping and praying that he didn't accidentally fart in her face. That would be the end of him, truly.

"What happened here?" She asked, tapping on Marco's left leg. "Oh, uh, the glass it, it cut me when I... pulled the bottom half out." He answered, shuttering on the inside for having admitted it.

"Hmm. Did you feel anything sharp while pulling it out before you cut your leg? Even just a pinch?" She asked, pushing herself back over to the computer on her chair. Marco breathed out and tried to remember, "N-no? I don't think so."

She pulled a bottle of something and some cotton pads out of a cabinet and pushed herself back over and out of sight, "We'll clean that up then. And what about the second half? How did you get that out?" She asked it so simply, like, they were discussing the weather, or something! Marco just wanted to die, and he thought he might do so from embarrassment if this kept up.

"I... I had to, use, aahhh, m-my hand. My whole hand, to, y'know, get in a-a-and, uhmmhh, _grab it_." Marco's voice cracked and he wanted to slap himself in the face. Could puberty give him a break for the rest of the day so he didn't sound like a clown because of how nervous he was?

He felt something wet touch the cut on his thigh, and assumed whatever was in the bottle she'd pulled out was some kind of disinfectant. "That's good, and your hands didn't get cut at all?" Marco nodded, before realizing the futility of such a thing and stuttering, "Uhh, yeah. I mean, n-no. I didn't get cut at all."

It had to have been well over an hour since they'd arrived, and Marco still hadn't gotten his ass checked yet. The suspense was _killing_ him. Why couldn't she just get it over with? Who cares about his little cut? That couldn't kill him!

But perhaps he spoke to soon, because Dr. Ral rolled to the side and threw some things away, before grabbing yet another thing from another cabinet that he couldn't see. She rolled right back, "Alright, we'll put _this_ on your leg so that it heals up nicely," She said as he felt something like a band-aid stick to his thigh.

"And we'll finally get started." She continued, and Marco swallowed, his mouth feeling dry, wringing his hands over his chest. The second he felt the first cold finger he winced, bringing his hands up to cover his face and scratch at the edges of his hair in frustrated embarrassment.

It was so much more than just uncomfortable, it was gross. He winced and choked down his sounds of disgust as Dr. Ral did her job, and all Marco could think to himself over and over was that this most certainly wasn't happening.

This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. This wasn't _happening_.

He couldn't help it, the shame and embarrassment was just too much for him to handle. He just hoped that her fingers poking and prodding everywhere wasn't going to stab a glass piece through him.

"Okay! You're all good!" Dr. Ral said, her fingers no longer anywhere near Marco's asshole. Marco was confused, but relieved. Was it really... over? "Huh?" Marco asked plainly, his voice muffled from his hands still being plastered onto his face.

Dr. Ral gave him an assuring smile as she pulled her gloves off, "I said you're fine! There aren't any cuts, or pieces of glass up there. I'm positive. I'll let you change and in a bit I'll come back to check your blood pressure and temperature again, have you sign some forms, and then you can be on your way."

Marco pulled his legs together, "Okay." He said, staring up the ceiling as he let his fingers relax. It wasn't until after he heard the door open and close that he turned on his side and curled up, rubbing his hands over his face roughly and groaning. Never again. Nothing was _ever_ going near his asshole again! Not even his fingers! No, definitely not. His prostate was _not_ worth this shame!

He heard the door open again and he pulled his hands away from his face, curling them towards his chest as he gently lifted his head up to see who was there. It was Ymir. "Get dressed already! Mom's gonna be here soon."

" _Oh no_." Marco whispered pathetically. Ymir snorted and picked up the bag with the broken unicorn in it, turning it over in her hands a few times before putting it back. "What's that face for? You look red as a fire engine. What'd you like that pretty doctor goin--" Marco shot up form the bed, glaring, "No, you're disgusting! I, I can't even believe you'd say that!" Stabbing him in the face would've been less offensive.

Ymir put her hands up in defense, "Whoah, okay then! Why're you getting so mad at me today? I probably saved your life." She joked, pointing to the bag with the unicorn in it. Marco only sucked on his teeth, and moved to get out of the bed, grabbing the bag with his clothes in it.

"Alright, I'm sorry. I thought if I didn't act all serious it'd keep your from having a panic attack and bursting into tears in front of anyone. Here, pick one." Ymir sighed, handing Marco her phone.

It only took a few seconds for Marco to go wide eyed and gasp, dropping the phone onto the bed by mistake, "Wh-what!? Are you nuts!? I-I don't want any of that!" It was a website that sold sex toys.

Ymir rolled her eyes and snatched her phone back, "You put a glass statue up your ass today! You're lucky the worst thing that happened to you was some embarrassment, okay? Random shit you find around the house is not supposed to go up your ass, okay? Mom and dad aren't gonna buy you one, and if they are, you don't want them to, trust me. I'm doing you a favor, so _pick one_ or I'm telling mom exactly what happened to her favorite unicorn!"

Now Marco really wanted to cry. "I'm not putting anything in anywhere **ever** again, okay? Nothing! I don't want to. I'm serious, I'm, I'm not doing it!"

"Well pick one anyway, otherwise I'm not covering for you. And don't even think about trying to turn this around, alright? You could've seriously hurt yourself today, I don't care if I get in trouble for keeping alcohol in the house. I _will_ tell mom and dad about this." Ymir threatened again, handing Marco her phone again.

Marco sighed and took the phone back, reluctantly scrolling through all of his options. "...What's a flesh light?" He asked, confused. Ymir groaned and scratched the back of her head, "Jesus Christ, you're hopeless. Forget it, you can look at 'em when we get home, I don't have time to give you a crash course in adult toys." Ymir took her phone back and shoved it into her back pocket.

What a day. What, a, day.

  
  


Ymir made off with the broken unicorn in her own car, and Marco took the ride home with their mother. "Marco, are you ever going to tell me what happened? Your father and I are worried." His mom asked, glancing at Marco in the rear view mirror.

Marco sighed and looked out the window, "It was just a little accident, okay? I'm, 15 now, okay, I don't have to tell you everything. I'm sorry I worried you and dad. I just... I don't wanna talk about it anymore." The last thing he needed was for his parents to be inquiring about Marco's non existent sex life even more than they already were.

" _Okay_ , but you know you can talk to us, right? About anything? It doesn't have to be both of us either, if you want to talk to your father about something without me around, that's fine too. We just.... We love you, and when we heard you were in the ER again, oh...." His mom trailed off.

He couldn't blame her. It was summer again, right around the time he'd gotten heat stroke last year. It was only natural they'd be a little paranoid about the possibility it happening twice in only a year's time. If only it were as simple and shameless as heat stroke though.

"Yes, I know. I don't wanna talk about it, it's nothing, I'm fine, you don't have to worry about it." Marco tried to explain again, even though he knew it was pointless. His parents would worry about it for a good few months or so. They always wanted to know what Marco and Ymir were doing, how they were feeling, etc.

He knew it was just because they were being protective, but, it was annoying when they couldn't give him privacy once in a while.

"How about we go get Wendy's for dinner, hm? I know you love their fries!" Wow. His mom really must've been worrying to offer fast food for dinner. Marco usually had to eat the stuff behind their back, otherwise they barely paid for it even once in a month. Them and their complaints about calorie and fat intakes, as if Marco didn't run off everything he ate already.

But Marco just wanted to go home, to lay down on his bed and calm down. He probably shed a good 5 years off his life with the day he had. "No, I kinda wanna eat that leftover pot roast. I uhm, I didn't finish my chores...."

His mom sighed and shook her head, but there was a smile on her face. "Well of course they're not done! Did you think we expected you to vacuum the living room while you were in the hospital? Ymir'll be home for the rest of the night, she can do whatever's left." It was a bad day to be Ymir.

Marco was completely elated when they got home, and couldn't wait once they walked through the door to kick his flip flops and run to the kitchen. He felt like an animal that had been stuck in a box and was finally released. His house smelled so comfortable, not at all like the lingering scent of cleaners and bleached fabrics of the hospital. It wasn't bight and overbearing, or cold.

It was night and day, honestly, and Marco didn't even realize the smile on his face as he grabbed the kitchen shears and snipped the hospital band off his wrist. He turned the sink on and began washing his hands, still uncertain that his hands had been truly clean even after the Purel he'd used before they left the hospital.

He flicked the water off his hands when he was done, enjoying the ease and privacy he could sense again. Seriously, doctors freaked him out. At least the last time he'd been in the ER he was too delirious and miserable to be uncomfortable about being in the hospital.

But as Marco left the kitchen and saw his mom, he stopped. What was he going to tell everyone else? No doubt his parents had already told other people that he went to the ER, probably other parents too. Marco hadn't even checked his phone since he called Ymir.

"Hey, mom?" Marco asked, scratching the back of his head. His mom set her purse down on the couch, "Mhmm?"

Marco took a deep breath, a sheepish smile twitching up from the corner of his mouth, "Can we just uh, not tell everyone that I had an accident? Can we just say it was, I dunno, somethin' else?" It was one thing having people ask him what happened in the ER, it was another entirely for people who didn't know to come up with their own wild answers once they realized they wouldn't get a straight answer.

His mom stopped for a moment, bringing her hand up to her chin. Then she looked back at Marco, confidence in her face. "Strep! No one ever wants to know anything about strep throat except how long to stay away. Just tell everyone you're taking anti-biotics, they'll believe it."

How insidious, had his mom already used that lie before? "Oh, okay. Strep's like, a sore throat thing, right?" His mom nodded immediately, "Yes, it's terrible. Your cousin Lou gets it every spring, it's a nightmare! I'll call your father and warn him not to go running his mouth. I swear every time one of you gets hurt he thinks it's an invitation to a bragging contest about how much he loves and cares for you both. He never gives me that kind of attention."

"Oh! Except for when he goes out of his way to buy me my pads, then it's all about how much of a good man he is, touching a box of 'lady items', so revolutionary. Then he's such a 'real man' then, and, and, well you know." His mom rambled on, laughing to herself about an old memory no doubt.

It was nice but, Marco didn't really wanna hear it. Nothing about his parents' weird relationship quirks, that's for sure. Besides, weren't old women supposed to stop having their... eugh, ack! No no, Marco didn't like thinking about that stuff. He nodded and made a noise to indicate he was leaving, and then slipped out of the room and up the stairs.

Once in the privacy of his room, he sighed in complete relief as he shut his door behind him. He'd love to bask in the safety and comfort of his room, but, he did have to clean up his mess. Another unfortunate fact of masturbating; It was _always_ messy.

Unless he was in the shower, then the plumbing took care of that for him. Should he feel guilt? Of course not, he knew everyone else peed in the shower, what he did wasn't any worse.

Marco put his lube away in his shoe box, and returned the box to its proper place underneath his desk. He pulled the top layers of blankets off his bed, bunching them into a ball and dropping them by his door so he'd remember to wash them asap.

He opened his closet and pulled out a few more blankets, even though he knew he wouldn't need them. Something just felt right about sleeping in a bed dominated by tons of different blankets. Fluffy ones, silky ones, big ones, felt ones, comforters! It might've gotten a little hot in the summer, but no one could deny that his bed was one comfy pile of happiness to lay in.

For all he loved it though, he did feel shame for dirtying it over and over again. But what could he do? He'd tried ignoring his urge to masturbate for long periods of time, all it did was frustrate him in the end, and he hated it. There was nothing more awkward than actually having his mood affected because of something as insignificant as his sex drive. Couldn't it just wait until he was an adult before distracting him so much?

Speaking of shame, he heard a knock on his door before it got pushed open anyway, Ymir walking through. He really didn't wanna look at dildos right now, he just wanted to forget the day happened and dream about better things.

But he knew he had no choice, so he sighed and plopped down on his bed, looking down at the floor in embarrassment. Ymir smacked the door closed and joined him, whipping her phone out of her pocket again. "Alright so a flesh light is a tube you put your dick into. You don't want that. You want something that'll keep you away from, damn, I dunno, dad's spice grinders, next time."

Marco sighed and held his head in his hands, groaning. He hoped this wouldn't take long. And he never even thought about the spice grinders! They were definitely too big though, there was no way he'd be able to use them. Marco was still scared straight, as it were. Straight out of the need to put anything up his asshole that is, not heterosexual straight.

* * *

"If I knew how bad my ass was gonna hurt the next day I probably wouldn't've done it." Marco sighed, somehow being able to look Jean in the face as he finished explaining. He left out a lot of details of course, like, a _lot_ , as to best preserve his dignity as possible, but Jean still looked dumbfounded.

"You... you're insane!" Jean finally said, leaning up on his left arm and looking down at Marco. "I mean, a glass unicorn statue!? Fuck, man you could've _died_!" Jean laughed, and goodness, Marco loved hearing that. He could only imagine how much he'd hurt Jean's feelings earlier, it was nice to see him with such a sincere smile.

Marco sat up, "C'mon don't over react, I was fine! I'm still here." He poked Jean for emphasis, and earned a slap to the shoulder in return. "Shut up! And that, that thing on your leg is a _scar_? I just thought it was a stretch mark or something!" Jean glanced down at Marco's leg.

That was strange. It was true, the scar on Marco's left thigh was still there, but it was _barely_ visible. Ymir told him it was nothing to be self conscious about when he went swimming, because no one would know it was there unless they were really looking. Did Jean really notice such little things about him, or did Ymir bullshit him again?

"Uhh, yeah, I guess? If we're talking about the same thing anyway. You're lucky, okay, you get a smoothie for being an idiot, and I get to go to the ER? That's just not right." Marco shook his head, thinking back to the smoothie in question. It was a very simple thing, now that he thought about it. There wasn't much flavor there, just orange, vanilla, and a hint of banana. At least now he understood why.

Jean scoffed and scooted backwards, leaning against the headboard, "Yeah well if I had a sister who cleaned up after me every time I screwed up I wouldn't've had to make that stupid ass smoothie." Marco couldn't help but laugh at that, although he still had to defend himself. "Just because she helps me out sometimes doesn't mean I'm the screw up, okay?"

"Uh huh, whatever you say.... Y'know, you're pretty much the closest thing I've got to an older sibling so, where was my unconditional moral support in my hour of need?" Jean looked down at his hand as he picked at his index fingernail with his thumb.

Ahh... another reason why Marco knew things just, wouldn't work out between him and Jean. They were, he guessed, practically family. Not that Marco was trying to sound old but, it was getting to a point where he couldn't remember much of his life before meeting Jean. Not that he could remember where he and Jean met to begin with, but still.

Even Jean's mother kept saying how Marco was like another son to her! How odd it would be, if Marco told Jean the things he thought about him. It would have to be kind of like, having your cousin kiss you. Sure it wasn't "we're siblings" disgusting, but it was definitely gross. It'd be like, if Mikasa and Eren had sex. They just weren't like that with each other, as shocking as it was. Eren was an attractive player, and Mikasa definitely was gorgeous.

That wasn't the point though, they had a relationship that, all together, was still very different from Marco and Jean's. Marco just wished his relationship with Jean was even more different. He had no idea how much he was enjoying the night, how a kind of weight had been lifted off their shoulders. Like they were somehow closer now that they'd share their darkest, sinful little secrets.

Marco wasn't a complete idiot though, he figured Jean probably had even more secrets, just like Marco did. But tonight? Tonight he didn't have to think about that. It was nice just knowing that Jean had his own moment of lustful teenage weakness. It definitely made Marco feel less guilt about what he'd done, knowing that someone so close to him had made the same stupid mistake.

"Oh god," Marco started exaggeratedly, "I'd hate having to watch over you 24/7. Plus, I don't think I'd be a very good influence on you. I picked up that unicorn before you even thought about bananas in that way, huh?"

Jean looked unimpressed as he looked back up at Marco, "You're already a bad influence on me. It's all your fault, you shouldn't be deep throating frozen bananas in the summer like a porn star." Marco's heart practically stopped at that, his mouth dropping slightly as he processed what Jean had just said to him.

His face heated up even more from embarrassment, and he held his hand over his mouth in shock. "I-I don't...! Oh my god you're disgusting. You're such an _ass_!" Marco pulled one of the pillows from behind Jean and hit him in the face with it. Jean only just held his arms up to protect his face before it made contact. Bummer.

How dare Jean compare him eating bananas to... to blowjobs? As far as Jean knew for now, Marco was straight! It was so tasteless and crude to make gay sex jokes to tease straight people, honestly. The joke was all on Jean though, because Marco definitely liked men. Still, he'd never seen the way he ate frozen bananas in a sexual way. Jean just had to keep his mind deep in the gutter, didn't he?

"When you get some kind of weird disease because you tried to use more food as a dildo, I don't wanna hear it!" Marco huffed as he pushed himself away from Jean, still trying to hide the blush on his face.

Jean hugged the pillow to his chest protectively, and sat on the only other one on his bed, "I wrapped it up, and maybe if you'd wrapped yours you wouldn't've had to worry about the glass. Because it'd all be in the condom! Y'know, the more we talk the more I'm starting to think I'm the more mature one here."

"There is _nothing_ mature about what you said to me." Marco corrected him, rubbing his upper cheeks so he could stop smiling so hard from the embarrassment. He was already unsure if he'd ever be able to eat a banana again, and Jean certainly wasn't helping matters any. Not just by being so lewd, but for acting the way he did.

Marco had to be careful otherwise he'd slip up somewhere, he'd say the wrong thing when throwing insults back and forth, and he couldn't explain himself. Not tonight. But just as easily as Jean could make Marco want to drown him in affection, he could make Marco relax too, make him comfortable and off edge.

"What happened with the unicorn?" Jean asked, leaning his chin on the pillow he was holding. He looked calmed down now, although the smug smile was still on his face. "What do you mean?" Marco asked, still resistant to look straight at Jean again, in case he was planning to say anything else to embarrass him.

Jean stretched his legs out, gently banging his right leg into Marco's, "What'd Ymir do with it? Did your mom just forget it existed, like, what?" Oh. Marco breathed through his nose, trying to shake out the last of his visible shame before turning to look at Jean. He was glad Jean had the sense to clean up his own mess for once and at least sort of change the subject.

  
  


Nights like these were common, but not exactly in such a personal way. Marco and Jean, talking all night, bouncing around from topic to topic, going on and on about all kinds of things until.... Until, now, where Marco had realized that Jean was fast asleep and probably hadn't heard anything Marco was saying for the past five minutes.

Jean looked so comfortable, passed out the way he was, no smirk on his face, his eyes closed, hiding all the emotion in them. He definitely never had a real poker face with eyes like his, combined with all his other obvious, nervous habits that is. But who needs a poker face when Jean had such a cute one instead?

Marco did his best to control the way he looked at Jean sometimes, but oh no, definitely not now. He didn't have to worry about a thing. It was okay to stare at Jean for a little while, enjoy the view. Jean's acne was a recurring problem, the main cause for Jean's terribly inconsistent levels of self esteem, but Marco didn't think it ruined everything Jean had going for him.

It was disgusting, for sure, but maybe because they'd grown up together, and it'd been such a gradual change, it didn't bother Marco as much? No, that couldn't be it. The two of them also grew up with Eren, and if he had the chance to poke fun at Jean's acne in revenge for something stupid Jean had said to him another time, he took it.

Maybe he was just blinded by his feelings for him, although Marco had to admit, those rare, rare times when he imagined Jean naked, he removed the acne from Jean's imaginary face. So Marco's feelings might not be so pure and selfless after all.

He'd love to just lay down next to Jean right then and there, to flick the light off, to pull the covers of them both. It would be nice to snuggle up next to Jean for one night, and pretend in the morning that he'd just fallen asleep by mistake like Jean did....

That just wasn't the person Marco wanted to be, though. He couldn't bring himself to be so selfish, to lie to Jean like that. A fleeting moment of peace and happiness with Jean would be amazing, but not like this. Not while Jean was asleep and couldn't choose whether or not to enjoy it _with_ Marco. They both deserved better than some cheap affectionate gestures only when the opportunity came around for them to take it.

It just wasn't romantic, what Marco wanted. He wasn't even exactly sure what he wanted, he just knew that whatever it was, it wouldn't be constant. Still, he couldn't help but run his hand through Jean's hair a couple of times, sighing disappointingly as he did so.

At least, if tonight had meant anything, it showed that there was still a chance that he and Jean could grow closer, that it didn't just have to be nowhere or backwards with how they treated each other.

Or maybe that was all bullshit, and Marco was thinking up whatever sweet things he could to make himself feel better, and less guilty about how he was keeping his feelings a secret from Jean for no reason other than to protect himself from the awkward situation it might put him in.

Who knows?

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I write this instead of continuing work on the last part of the main series? Because I've done work on it, and I'm still outlining the finer details. It will be a LONG fic that I'm sure I'll have to divide into multiple "chapters" just so that it all fits. I want to make sure I have all the details planned out and in the right order, because that will make it easier to actually WRITE the darn thing. I also decided to use cock instead of dick to mix things up! I think I'll stick to dick though, cock just sounds so, loud and obnoxious.
> 
> Also this has been something I've wanted to explain ever since I finished the 4th part of the series. I love the idea that Marco is well composed when around other people for the most part, but still not a perfect paradigm of logic and good choices either. 
> 
> Also, canon jokes. The Military Police fucks everyone over, Marco would've hated joining them. Please comment. I also have a tumblr, crackerjacknotanon.


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